


The Dreaming in the Ice

by 221squee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Capthulhu, Horror, Lovecraftian, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:18:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221squee/pseuds/221squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS IS HORROR.  I have not included all the possible tags, because that would spoil the story.  If you have any concerns about subjects that might disturb or upset you, do not read further.</p>
<p>"Does Steve seem a little strange to you?  I mean, I don't know a lot of cryogenically preserved, 94-year-old supersoldiers, but..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dreaming in the Ice

Tony Stark heard an awful gargling sound as he walked into the white and stainless steel kitchen in the living quarters at Stark Tower. He held his hand away from his body, prepared to summon his armor as he rounded the corner. But there was Steve, standing at the kitchen island in an apron, looking unbothered.

"Good lord, Steve, are you choking?"

The tall supersoldier turned his head and gave him that thousand-Watt smile. "Hm?" He laughed. "Oh, just a little German ditty I picked up during the war."

"Ah. Ich bin ein Berliner." Tony nodded his head.

Steve gave him an adorable confused puppy look, and then shook his head and looked back at the meat he was cutting up, and went back to his quiet singing, quieter than before.

... --- ...

A few nights later, Bruce was shuffling his way back to his room with a cup of Sleepytime tea when he almost collided with a sweaty Steve Rogers, dressed in a black sweatshirt and sweatpants.   
"Whoa! Careful, there," Steve said, and grabbed him by the arms to steady him.  
Bruce gathered his thoughts. "Sorry, can't sleep. You been in the gym?"  
"Oh, no," Steve said. "I went out for a run on the beach."  
"In the middle of the night?"  
"Well, it's so nice out in the dark. You don't run into as many people as you do in the day."  
Steve patted Bruce on the shoulder, and went past him into the kitchen.   
Bruce pondered if Steve had smelled a little strange, not just sweaty, but something else. It was hard to tell over the mint in the tea, though.

... --- ...

The team had just finished rounding up a herd of mammoths from the streets of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and were flying back home to New York. Natasha was up front minding the autopilot, and Steve, Tony, and Bruce were in the rear.   
"Really, who does that? That's so comic book supervillain," said Bruce.  
"I know! Right? The kind of person who clones a herd of mammoths is probably the kind of person who thought that Geico caveman show would be a good idea. And that really is a crime against humanity," said Tony  
"Well, if you can make a movie of a board game or of an amusement park ride, why not a car insurance ad?"  
"A board game?" Steve asked.  
"Yeah! Battleship! Did you guys have that yet?" asked Tony. Tony explained about the pegs and the boards and so forth.  
"Oh. Well, that sounds like something I've seen, except ours was with graph paper."

Tony nodded. "But anyway, you must've felt some kinship with the mammoths, right Capsicle?"  
"Tony," Bruce corrected him.  
"No, no," Steve said. "It's alright. The ice wasn't as bad as everyone seems to think. I wasn't a hundred percent out of it, but I heard the roars and the shrieks of the ice, singing me to sleep, squeaking and chipping." He giggled. It was strange to hear such a giggle from a big, tall man. "It was pleasant, like a lullaby. The dark was so restful and peaceful. I wasn't happy when they dug me out." Steve looked off into the distance with a little smile on his face.

No one else had much to say after that. 

... --- ...

Natasha came in the front entrance of Stark Tower. The glass lobby was mostly dark, and she stood between the elevator banks and waited for her eyes to adjust before she went further. She had been drinking, but she could tell something wasn't right; she could smell it in the air. Perhaps something was feeding back through the ventilation system. It was too dark and too quiet. As her eyes adjusted, she turned her handbag so that the side with razors sewn into it faced the right way out. She put a poisoned sharp into each hand.

It was a long walk up as she checked the levels of the skyscraper, taking the stairs, but even though the most likely target was her team, she had to check and make sure of the other floors underneath.

Natasha crept into the penthouse gym and saw that in the middle of the floor were some dark spots, and some little reflections or lights. Maybe it was only the city lights reflecting off the waxed wooden floor. She looked for a moment more, and the dark blobs resolved into four bodies with spreading stains underneath them. She could tell by the smell that they were very fresh. She wasn't close enough in this light to see who they were, but she had a sinking feeling she knew.

Who would have been here tonight? Stark, almost certainly, but he would be the easiest to beat, unwary and not especially strong. Bruce? If he was defeated, the enemy must be fast enough to take him out before he took on his other form, or strong enough to defeat Bruce's other form. Barton would put up a good fight, but he was a standard human, too. Would that mean the enemy also had ranged weapons?

She crept around the edge of the gym, moving behind the columns and exercise equipment, and listening for whoever must have been up there.

All the breath was knocked out of her as something collided with her back. She heard a crack that must have been her spine. Her upper back was in agony, and she twitched on the floor. Whatever had hit her grabbed her wrists and started to drag her across the floor of the gym. She twisted her wrists as far as she could, hoping she might poison it, hoping it didn't have impermeable skin.

Natasha could tell that she was moving, but she couldn't feel her legs drag across the floor, only hear them. She tried to calm her heartbeat, but what use was it by this point? She looked up to see who had her, and in the light from the window, she could see Steve's face. What would be let loose upon the world now that she was dying without warning anyone?

He dragged her around the rough circle of bodies, and she could see now that there were little candles in between them. The body across the circle from her had his face tilted towards her, and was definitely Stark. 

Steve pushed her over so she was aligned with the other four in the circle. He stumbled. She felt a twinge of hope in her racing heart. Her death was not for nothing; it was not for nothing. Steve sunk to one knee, and then keeled over the rest of the way. He lay facing towards her as they both died together. He whispered one last thing she could hear while she strained to breathe.

"The others... in the ice... are working... their way... to the sea."

**Author's Note:**

> I would greatly appreciate if you would leave a criticism of this story. "You suck," is certainly a criticism, but I fervently hope you might leave something more specific, such as, "In such-and-such scene, I can't tell what sort of a room the characters are in, or how they're standing in relation to one another." Or, "Such-and-such detail is excessive, and contributes nothing to the story." Thanks again for reading!


End file.
